Meet the Parents
by Ray by Another Name
Summary: A compilation of drabbles from Henry's time at college with Peter, Felix, and August. This set revolves around his parents' visit for Family Weekend. Roaming 3rd Person POV, Past Tense. Hints at smut, but nothing even remotely graphic. Relationships and ages changed. Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.


A compilation of drabbles from Henry's time at college with Peter, Felix, and August. This set revolves around his parents' visit for Family Weekend. Roaming 3rd Person POV, Past Tense. Hints at smut, but nothing even remotely graphic. Relationships and ages changed.

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time.

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1

"Why haven't you told them we're together yet?" Peter watched Henry flit around his bedroom, gathering things that might let his parents know Peter spent time in there. The shirts he commonly left in the hamper, his untouched and never used planner from the desk, a pair of jeans from beside the bed.

"I'm just not sure I want them to know yet. I only get one chance to tell them, I want to time it right." Henry turned back and forth, eyes double-checking his mind's work. "Not to mention the whole 'you' factor."

Peter arched an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall behind the bed. Lounging comfortably as his boyfriend frantically cleaned. He was fast realizing that this was one of those times he was going to need to be creative to get his way.

"Not that you're not good enough or anything, but you're kind of rough around the edges and…" Henry continued to babble on, Peter ignoring him as he crafted his scheme. Of course when Henry realized he was talking to himself he picked up the nearest shoe – which coincidentally was Peter's – and threw it at the languid sloth occupying his bed.

Peter rubbed his face where the shoe hit him, eyes narrowed and a growl in his throat, "What?"

"I said, it takes more than a day's notice to make a nice impression," Henry motioned with his hands and Peter got up. Henry was six inches shorter than Peter and two years younger, but Peter was the one that required looking after.

He was the youngest of three brothers, the baby of the family and doted on as tradition dictated by his mother. Henry was an only child with two workaholic parents and family that was very involved with their community. There was little doting and he was very independent.

Peter smirked and Henry raised his eyebrow, "Why do you look like you just go what you wanted? You didn't."

"For now." Peter took his items from Henry's arms and stalked from room, the grin on his face firmly in place. Henry was rightfully weary.

On the other side of the hallway Peter deposited his belongings in his usual fashion. That is to say, he threw them into the overflowing desk chair and watched them cascade down the waterfall of dirty clothing and junk into the corner of no return. Eventually, one of his brothers will walk in, see the mess, and clean it for him.

Henry was not quite so easy to manipulate as his brothers, which was what made him fun. Peter plopped onto his bed and checked his watch. 3…2…1…

"What are you up to?" Henry walked into the room, not particularly accustomed to knocking

Peter smiled up at him, "Not a clue what you're talking about darling."

2

Felix cringed as he woke up. He'd gone out drinking with his friends last night and had hoped to sleep it off today. The sounds echoing off the walls of the apartment were not conducive to sleep though. Cursing the thin walls and his overly-sensitive head Felix fumbled out of his bed.

August and him had both figure out ways to deal with their insatiable roommates. August liked ear-plugs. Felix was a music man at heart; his go-to was headphones. So he flipped the stereo by his bed on.

The music was aloud, with a heavy bass that was pounding against his head, but it was also oddly soothing. And it drowned out Henry and Peter as they first fought and then fucked, because that was what they did for some inane reason.

Once the wave of nausea drifted off, Felix stood. He walked into the living room, stumbling against the arm of the couch before tripping over one of the stools. The floor was cool against his head and it felt nice, so he just laid there. Letting himself drift off.

August woke him, an amused expression on his face. The youngest in the apartment August always managed to enjoy his role of designated drive by taking pictures and mocking hangovers. Not to mention he got more numbers with his boyish innocence than Peter did with his charismatic bad-boy looks.

"Have they shut up, yet?" Felix murmured against the floor. Normally the wet feeling on his cheek would annoy him but Felix couldn't even manage to sit up to wipe it clean.

August shook his head, "But Henry's parents should be here soon. That'll shut them up I'm sure." Felix smirked to himself. Henry would be hilarious if his parents dropped by while he was having sex.

"Will you get me an ice pack?" Felix asked, rolling on his back and wiping his hand across his face to get rid of some of the drool.

3

"Henry!" Emma Cassidy banged on the door of her son's apartment. The sound of her yelling was drowned out nearly entirely by the obnoxious music pouring from inside the place.

Her husband Neal stood behind her, watching the sight with great amusement. He held his lock picking set in hand, knowing that Emma's patience wouldn't last much longer.

She huffed and turned around, "Fine, pick it." Neal knelt in front of the door as Emma stepped pulled out his small tension wrench and half-diamond pick. He had barely started to turn the tumblers when the door was pulled open.

"Hey, Mr. Cassidy," August Booth stood with a knowing grin as he eyed his friend's parents, "Sheriff Emma." He took a bite from the bowl of cereal in his hands, waiting.

"August," Neal smiled impishly as he stood, "Henry here?"

The teenage boy nodded, "He and Peter were arguing earlier, so I know he's up." He waved the two adults into the flat.

"Your father wanted us to let you know you he wished he could come, but he got stuck working a job this weekend," Emma relayed as August lead them down a hallway. The doors stood open. One she knew had to be August's from the wooden puppets sitting above the bed and the half-finished wooden train set sitting on the desk.

The other was the origin of the loud music. A set of oriental swords decorated the wall above a messy bed and an empty pizza box stood open next to the overflowing trash can.

"I understand," August said. He stopped in the common area where an older boy, Emma estimated twenty-three based on his height and figure, was sitting at the counter – a bag of peas pressed to his temple.

"Don't even think of turning on the light," the boy spoke in a harsh whisper, eyes closed and head bowed.

"Henry's parents are here," August spoke, "for Parent's Weekend."

"Bully for them."

August sighed, "This is Felix, he's in a bit of a bad mood this morning."

"Hung-over huh?" Neal said, pulling out a flask from his pocket and setting it in front of the boy, "My papa always says a little hair of the dog takes the edge off."

Felix opened his eyes narrowly to stare at Neal. He took a quick swig and almost instantly started coughing from the burning sensation on his throat.

"Mr. Gold's Secret Hangover Cure?" Emma raised an eyebrow at the blond boy clutching the counter as her husband screwed the cap back on his flask.

Neal nodded, "I always keep a stash on me, just in case."

"I'm never taking alcohol from you." August's statement brought a snicker from the duo

"You shouldn't be drinking at all, kid," Emma smiled at him, "You're underage."

It was only a few moments later that one of the doors down the further hallway opened. An attractive young man walked out, pulling on a button-on and his jeans undone.

"Why is Felix dying?" Peter looked at his older brother with glee in his eyes as he asked the question.

"Henry's father poisoned me!" Felix hacked out, smacking Peter's shoulder.

Peter rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen for some water, "Don't be so dramatic."

Emma and Neal followed the darker haired brother with their eyes as he moved about. Henry had mentioned Peter more than he had Felix or August when he'd moved in with the three earlier that Fall. They'd been looking forward to meeting him. Henry was never as subtle as he thought he was.

"I thought you guys weren't coming till this afternoon?" Henry said as he emerged from the same doorway as Peter, albeit much more dressed with everything buttoned and zipped.

"It is afternoon," Emma raised an eyebrow as she watched her son blush. Neal noticed Peter grinning in the kitchen, like a cat that'd had a nicely grilled canary for lunch.

4

"I think I made quite a fine impression," Peter asked Henry later as they lay curled in Peter's bed, "don't you?" Henry grumbled and grabbed a shoe from the floor, about to hit the side of his boyfriend's face. By coincidence or fate, it was the mate to the shoe he'd thrown earlier, and that fact made Henry smile for reasons he'd refuse to admit.

"You weren't horrible I suppose," Henry sighed, resting his head against Peter's shoulder, "But next time, do me a favor and button your jeans."

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